m4iya

[m4iya]

how would I know? suna rintaro

Chapter 2: more than just a friend

“You have a stomachache?”

“I think.”

“How do you think something like that?!”

The classroom door slid open. As he turned to see who it was, his stomach lurched once more. She took her seat across the classroom without paying an ounce of attention to him despite the daggers he stared. An odd feeling, one that he’d never known. Holding his stomach, he turned back to his friend who sat in front.

“Yeah, I think that’s what it is.”

Ever since their argument - if you could call it that - a couple days ago, minimal words had been exchanged between the two. He had no idea what was bothering her, but despite his attempts to smoothen the situation by continuing to hang out together, she didn’t budge.

It was practically eating away at him. A friend suddenly abandoning you without saying much wasn’t the easiest thing to get over. The mundane lecture of the teacher became nothing but background noise as his thoughts became consumed by memories of her.

Her laughter replayed in his head alongside that bright smile of hers that he just couldn’t seem to forget. Then he felt it once more - that lurch in his stomach.

The feeling of falling hundreds of feet down, only to be suddenly stopped. A long drop - a deep, deep fall into unmarked territory; a place he wasn’t used to, a place he couldn’t escape.

Arms folded over the table, his head dipped. Had he done something to upset her? Or had she simply become bored of him? He scoured through his memories as though flipping through files in a binder, searching for something he might’ve done to upset her.

It was no use. He couldn’t think of a single thing; she was never the type who complained much - at least not to him.

If she wasn’t going to voluntarily tell him what had been bothering her to the point where she’d actively avoid him, he’d ask her directly. That way, she wouldn’t be able to avoid him.

Though, just the thought of confronting her worried him. What if she feels offended by his words and breaks down crying in front of him? Then, he’d seriously be done for. He knew that things couldn’t be left the way they currently despite the thin strings their friendship was barely hanging onto.

He knew that he definitely had to say something. To say something to her that would truly express the emotions he was feeling. He knew this, but why couldn’t he think of anything to say?

Through all the deliberation and reflection he’d done over the time that they’d spent apart, one thing was for sure: He needed her by his side, no matter what.

other works

[m4iya]

i’m alive!!! i know i’ve been gone for a while but here are some sketches for now

[m4iya]

Roommates Part 2

Sakusa Kiyoomi (fluff)

He'd mind his business, and you'd mind yours. You wouldn't get in each others way, nor would you have any issues. But it seems that the ice may soon be broken.

Dramatic music blared from the speakers of the TV as you popped a handful of popcorn into your mouth.

From the corner of your eye sat your roommate, arms begrudgingly folded as he looked like he’d rather be somewhere else.

“I’m not forcing you to sit here, you know.” As you turned your head to face him, his eyes remained glued to the screen.

A moment of silence passed where the only noise was that of the TV show.

“..I’m trying to watch the show.” He bluntly replied.

‘The audacity of this guy!’ You thought to yourself, mere seconds away from dropping an equally irritating reply. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you turned your head back in the direction of the show, sure that you heard the sound of a scoff emit from his direction.

Time passed, and the two of you sat in silence, occasionally broken by the crunching of your popcorn. You decided to go for one more attempt at breaking the ice by offering him some popcorn; only to be met by a scowl that read ‘are you kidding me?’

“Do you know how unsanitary that is?” He questioned as you pulled the bowl back to your lap, hesitant to hear his explanation. “You’re eating from it - putting food into your mouth - and asking me if I want from the same bowl you just stuck your hands back into?”

It didn’t sound like it was directed against you specifically. Perhaps some people simply don’t feel comfortable eating from the same bowl as another person.

“Sorry.” You muttered, feeling a little embarrassed by your lack of consideration.

“It’s fine.” He sighed, his voice softer than before.

The two of you sat in silence for the remainder of the show.

Once it finished, you took the remote in your hand and pressed the ‘Off’ button, the remnants of light completely leaving the living room. As you stood from your seat on the couch in preparation to head to bed, you noticed that he hadn’t left to his own room despite his initial complaints that he was trying to sleep.

Taking a few careful steps towards him, you noticed that he’d dozed off on the couch. His dark curls sunk into the cushion of the headrest, arms gently clenching a pillow to his chest. His eyelashes flittered ever so slightly with each soft breath that he took - seeming completely different from his sharp personality.

You decided against waking him up - tapping him might freak him out a little, and if he woke up now, he might not be able to fall back asleep.

Careful not to make too much noise, you took the time to thoroughly wash your hands in the sink before grabbing a blanket from the dryer and draping it over him. He didn’t seem to notice, making no movements whatsoever the entire time.

Silently stepping into your room, you couldn’t get the image of his face as he slept out of your mind. His hair resting loosely on the couch, skin kissed by the gentle glow of the moonlight, with beauty marks that were slightly visible under the mass of curls that fell over them.

Sure he was a little prickly, but he was still your roommate, right? So why hadn’t you gotten to know him sooner?

other works ✩ part 1

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 @rindousbbg has chosen to work on social studies with Kenma, by reading their notes the night before the exam.. Let's see how that works out for them!

Kenma insists that the upcoming exam worth 30% of both of your grades will be easy. That it's 'common knowledge' and that he's more than prepared. In fact, he wont even study the night before - because he's simply that prepared.

You, who has been in a whirl of panic recently, feels like shrieking at his attitude, wondering how on earth he could be so nonchalant about this entire thing.

Kenma complains at your complaints, telling you that he's always busy with practice - a futile attempt at sneaking away from the fact that club activities are always cancelled 2 weeks before exam season. So what is he doing in this free time? You just know that he's definitely not training on his own. You, on the other time, have been trying your best to make time to study for your exam, struggling to fine small pockets of study in your already packed schedule.

You glare at Kenma from the corner of your eye in class, frustrated that he has so much free time to be studying and is instead doing who knows what.

Kenma calls you a few nights before the exam, and you attempt to rope him into a little bit of last minute studying - which he obviously denies, opting to listen to you write and recall concepts as he plays a video game instead.

You knew that a Social Studies exam wasn't something you could get by without studying. It took a lot of time to learn all the different topics - especially when you weren't consistent on studying them throughout the semester. Trends, graphs, legislations.. it went in one ear and out the other during class, so your last minute attempts at passing probably weren't going to make much of a difference. You tried your best to get in as much as you could, as this was the last time you'd be able to properly study, even if a little.

You simply couldn't focus on your studies, the feeling of stress overwhelming you to an extent that it overrode your concentration.

Kenma, in the meanwhile, clicked away at his controller, often murmuring comments about his game and sighing heavily. He seemed to have zero awareness of the upcoming exam - or maybe he was simply choosing to ignore it.

You were never able to find much time to study, begrudgingly deciding to follow Kenma's advice to read your notes before the exam. It was the least you could do to prepare.

Kenma shoots you a message the night before the exam; a picture of his notebook. No pen in sight, not an eraser or any of its shavings either. His accompanying text reads: 'See, I am studying'.

You decided to leave him on 'seen' until the next morning, where the two of you meet inside the classroom before the exam. He had nothing but his notebook, mechanical pencil and eraser in hand, while you carried a heap of notes, a couple highlighters, a ruler, a mechanical pencil, an eraser and a few other items stuffed into your pockets. Who knew what you'd need?

You both didn't speak much before the exam - you decided to keep your mouth shut, worrying that if you spoke too much, you might forget important concepts that were barely hanging on inside your head.

Kenma takes his seat and you take yours. The exam progresses, the questions being much harder than you'd imagined them to be. Answering as much as you could, you somehow managed to remain within the time limit, barely answering the final question as the timer ticked down on its last seconds.

Kenma, who sat in front of you, turned his chair towards you after the exam. Upon asking him how he went, you were surprised to hear that he not only finished early, that he also found the questions easy? You let out a deep sigh, dipping your head into your arms which rested atop the table. Despite you not having much time to study in the first place, maybe you still shouldn't have taken his advice...

From my exam season event ✩ other works

[m4iya]

bon bon

Tendo Satori

“Okay!” You huffed, crossing your arms over the apron you haphazardly put on. “Chocolate, filling, moulds, coconut oil…” Counting all the items you’d prepared for today, you made sure that nothing was missing. First impressions this and that, right?

When you joined the cooking club at the beginning of the year, you could hardly imagine yourself using by the kitchen-classroom to make chocolates for a boy.

Upon asking your friends about the types of sweets a guy might like, they all suggested chocolate like it was some sort of fact they’d known for years. But not just any plain old chocolate; it had to be handmade for the full ‘effect’. With that, you’d considered a few flavours that he might like; not that you knew anything about him other than the fact that he was in your schools Volleyball Club, and was pretty well known for his skills.

So how on earth did you get yourself in this situation in the first place, making chocolates for someone you’d never even spoken a word to before?

You’re not sure what triggered it, but it was a while ago when you started noticing things felt different for you. He’d sit in front of you during class, being relatively quiet most of the time. You’d notice the way he acted around his friends, especially in the hallways with his younger teammates from the club. Something about him seemed different from the rest of the guys in your class - in a way, you felt an odd sense of comfort.

Though, the faint scent of something burning wafted through the air, breaking you out of your reminiscent trance.

“Why isn’t it melting..?” You muttered to yourself. The recipe said to melt two tablespoons of coconut oil with half a cup of chocolate..

But that was according to your memory based off the recipe you’d researched at home. ‘It’s gotta be correct!’ you thought to yourself as you mixed the chocolate over a strong flame on the stove. Its consistency became clumpy, almost like a dough with the smell only becoming stronger. You anticipated that this might happen, so you made sure to open the windows and close the doors to the classroom so the smell wouldn’t travel throughout the hallways. You whipped your head around to see the doors to the classroom, just to make sure you’d closed them.

Instead, you were met with wide open doors, and locked-shut windows.

In your frenzy (or excitement?) you’d accidentally opened the doors and closed the windows.

Great going! Now the entire school has to smell your mistake. Though, at least you chose to begin after school, when at least most of the students would’ve left.

Panicking, you kept the mass of chocolate and coconut oil over the flame, waiting for it to melt. The burning smell was only faint - so you couldn’t tell whether or not it was completely ruined.

‘It’ll melt eventually!’ You thought.

As this all unfolded, someone’s voice yelped from behind you - from outside the classroom.

“What is that SMELL?!”

A familiar voice at that, but not the one you wanted to hear, not now of all times!

Turning off the heat, you threw a towel over the pot containing what was supposed to be chocolate, facing the door with an awkward smile.

“Hi, Tendo! Uh, don’t you have club right now?”

‘Please, please don’t come in…!’ Internal panic overtook you as the smile on your face shook.

His eyes narrowed as he held his nose, walking into the room. “I do.” He looked offended - like it was an issue you’d forced him to check out.

Before you knew it, he was standing beside you in front of the stove. His free hand menacingly hovering over the towel that covered your mess. Yanking it off, the two of you stared inside.

“Is that supposed to be ..chocolate?”

“…Yeah.”

He sighed dramatically as though to say ‘I guess I’ll just have to teach you then!’

Throwing the towel over his shoulder, he rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, asking you to hand him a few different things. A pot, measuring instruments, sugar, milk, different types of melting chocolates, piping bags? You felt like a sous chef!

In any case, he made sure to mention where you went wrong - the heat was probably too high, wrong ratio of coconut oil to chocolate, and a few other small mistakes that came together to make the abomination that had formed in the pot earlier. He told you not to worry, that these types of mistakes happen sometimes. How ironic - the person you had tried to make chocolate for was literally showing you how to do it.

Pouring the mixture into the moulds, he tapped it on the counter, getting rid of any air bubbles. He proceeded to re-pour the rest of the mixture out, leaving only a coating of chocolate inside of each circle. He explained that he’d now be putting filling inside the shells, then coating them again with more chocolate. He let you taste the fillings as he made them, offering you a spoon here and there.

As he mixed the caramel with the spatula, you asked why he wasn’t in practice, his club uniform suggesting that he might’ve been on the way to the gym.

“I was grabbing my bag from the classroom - I accidentally left it there.”

But he didn’t have his bag on him - meaning that he hadn’t even gotten to his class before walking by the kitchen classroom.

“Don’t you think they’re wondering where you are?” You questioned

“I’m sure they can wait.”

There was something about the way he spoke that made you giggle - you felt a certain sense of warmth that was unfamiliar to you.

Even though this was the first time you’d spoken to him, he was so kind, going out of his way to help you with something like this despite not even knowing your name.

Seeing how much you had struggled to do something he saw as so simple, he still didn’t make fun of you for it.

Lightly tapping the mould upside down, the small chocolates fell out, their shells decorated with a variety of different colours.

“See? It’s that easy.” He grabbed a piece and ate it. “Try one.” He suggested, his voice muffled by the food.

Taking one for yourself, you admired the sleek shape of the small sweet before popping it into your mouth. Smooth caramel filling oozed out, tingling the sides of your mouth and melting onto your tongue.

“It’s so good..!”

“I know, right?”

Though before you could lose yourself in the patissier-level sweets, you remembered what you were here to do initially.

“So, why did you wanna make chocolates to begin with?” He asked, taking another piece for himself. They were technically for him, anyways.

Walking towards your bag, you reached inside and took out a pre-decorated box alongside the letter you’d nervously written the day before. He watched as you lined the inside of the box with parchment paper, placing what remained of the chocolates inside, one by one. After closing the lid on-top, you laid the letter, encased within an envelope, onto the lid and tied a ribbon over and around the box.

“You’ll probably laugh at me for this,” You wryly held the box out to him, struggling to meet his gaze. “But this was supposed to be for you.”

“For me?” He laughed. “Wait, so like, you let me help you essentially make something for myself?”

You nodded. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.” The corners of your mouth upturned in a shy smile.

He took the box from your hands as he continued laughing. “That’s so cute!”

‘Cute?’

‘No not me, maybe he was just joking around!’ you thought to yourself, looking down to hide the redness that washed over your cheeks.

He continued, “But why would you go out of your way for me like that?”

Instead of keeping your head down as you spoke, you decided to look him directly in the eye despite the warmth in your face.

“It’s in the letter. It took me a while to write last night, so if you could..”

“Read it?” His tone softened, the laughter leaving his voice. “Isn’t that what letters are for?”

You chuckled, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I know.”

He helped you clean up the kitchen; it was you who initially made the mess with the burnt chocolate and everything. You both laughed about how mad his team was going to be that he was so late to practice, and he insisted that maybe some of the messed up chocolate that you made would lighten the mood.

“…And once they smell it, they’ll all take off running.”

“It’s not a bug repellent, Tendo.”

“Hey! did you just call my teammates bugs?”

side note: I failed at making rocky road the other day do u guys think tendo would laugh at me lol

other works

[m4iya]

shorty

Nishinoya Yu

“You know.. you’re actually short.”

“Excuse me?”

Laid together on his bed, he had his arm wrapped around your back, with your phone propped up sideways against his chest. The background noise of different videos bounced off of the walls of his room. Specifically couples height comparison videos - with the elusive ‘6ft’ title being thrown around by most of the guys you’d seen.

You recognised that he wasn’t exactly tall, but height wasn’t exactly something you looked for. You never really thought about the whole ‘I only go for tall guys’ thing.

Laying the phone down, you sighed deeply. You could tell that he’d been paying attention here and there - probably wondering what you were thinking. Height seemed to be something that he thought of pretty often.

“Something wrong?” You questioned, absentmindedly tracing circles on the fabric of his shirt.

He clicked his tongue, pausing before frustratingly voicing his thoughts. “Am I really that short?”

Ever since you’d first met him, his height was somewhat of a touchy issue; something that he himself would joke about here and there, but you could tell it wasn’t just pay no mind to at all.

“Well,” You replied, careful with how you spoke your next words. “Does it really matter that much to you?”

He fell silent for a moment, your now flat palm feeling the rhythm of his heart beating within his chest, its pace quickening.

“…Does it matter to you?” His voice was small; insecure. You had no idea that was what he was secretly worried about.

And now that he’d finally opened up to you, voicing what he’d been worrying about; you knew what to say.

You shifted your head, glancing upwards at his face; a red blush gently painted his cheeks. Your hand made its way to cup his face, its warmth enveloping your palm

“But,” You paused, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “You’re taller than me, right?”.

His hand found yours, lacing his fingers between your own, a small laugh stringing beside his now steadied voice. The same voice that retained the softness that had always been there for as long as you’d known him.

“Right.”

other works

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 Anon has chosen to study Science, 1 hour a day for 2 weeks with Kuroo! He's been hitting the books lately and insists he's prepared! Let’s see how they go..

Kuroo is a little cockier than most people you know. Always dropping comments about his training, time efficiency, and most of all, his grades. Though, he isn't the type to actually show off about any of it—in a way, you know that he says things like that because he's comfortable around you. So seeing that he was so comfortable—so confident, you made sure to ask if the two of you could study together for the upcoming Science exam.

He definitely isn't a cookie cutter example of what you'd imagine a nerd would look like, but here he was, sitting in front of you, tapping his pen onto your notebook as he explained the difference between organic and inorganic substances. Whenever he'd ask "Are you listening?" You had to constantly snap back to reality, nodding your head and replying with an "uh-huh". You were listening to him, though specifically to his voice, forgetting the concept he'd explain mere minutes after he'd done so.

Something had to be done about that—you didn't know how he'd react if you completely bombed the Science exam, especially with the hours that he'd spent on you. And so you made sure to actually concentrate. The smile on his face and jump in his voice as he drew diagrams, solved formulas and wrote example questions for you to solve—you imagined the way it'd fade if he figured out none of it was being used.

So you started studying for real. Receiving practice exams from him, you'd take them home to solve later, using the notes you'd taken on his explanations as well as separate printouts he'd given to you. Slowly, you even began to notice a shift in your information retainment. Instead of listening to his soft voice, following his hands as he'd point to specific elements, bringing his pen around the periodic table as he circled atomic numbers and whatnot, you looked beyond that.

You even found yourself looking beyond the content itself—you began to think about him, but this time, more so to do with what he did to get to the place he was now. Joking that he had barely studied yet somehow constantly scoring first place, complaining about the workload, yet finishing homework tasks before even leaving school on the day they were assigned; he'd also mentioned being the captain of your schools volleyball team.

But you weren't going to fall behind this time around. He was so busy, always seeming to have a jam packed schedule, and you who did little to no studying each day wasn't achieving the highest at all. You knew you could definitely make your marks soar—you just needed something cemented. You'd both constantly joke about how he continuously manages to maintain first place, with you ‘beginning to be a threat to his marks’. He'd laugh, running a hand through his already messed up hair as he did so, teasing, "Wow, I'm soo scared."

Though you knew he wasn't expecting to be overthrown. Not this time around, not this quickly either, and definitely not in Science of all things! Smugly placing the paper on his desk, you giggled. His mark was only two points behind yours—absolutely unheard of. However one thing was for sure. He was going to find out how you did it, how you managed to score higher than him even though he knew the content inside and out. And to do this, his plan included hanging around you for an extended period of time—watching the way you do things with a concentrated smile, looking through your notebooks when your weren’t around to see what methods you used for memory recall.

Though over the weeks, you started noticing less that your items were tampered with, a sign of him physically being around you often. The way his eyes would linger on you a little longer after you finished speaking, a pink hue glazing your cheeks as it did his; this was no longer about the exam.

From my exam season event ✩ other works

[m4iya]

Roommates Part 1

Sakusa Kiyoomi (fluff)

He’d mind his business, and you’d mind yours. You wouldn’t get in each others way, nor would you have any issues. But it seems that the ice may soon be broken.

“Turn that down,”

Your head flicked backwards at the sudden sound of your roommates voice.

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“..I’ll miss it if i don’t watch it live.”

“Ever heard of a recording?”

An awkward pause.

Rude. Someone’s never heard of a live show. The whole point is that you watch it live. It’s like watching a sports match after the results are out - the hype is gone at that point.

Though, you were still recovering from the surprise that he’d just spoken directly to you for the first time in who knew how long. Well, he’d keep to his own and you’d do the same. He did always keep the apartment clean, often doing the washing and tidying up the common space. It was a little weird how routinely he did that, actually.

But no matter how many times he’d cleaned up, you wouldn’t be turning the volume down. Raising the volume would make it too loud for the other tenants, and lowering it would make it too hard to hear.

“Either you wait for it to be over,” You paused, turning back around to grab the bowl of popcorn you had set down onto the coffee table earlier. “..Or you watch it with me.”

After his attempt to reason with you, he ultimately failed to do any convincing, joining you on the couch. You couldn’t help but think that the way he’d sat with a little force felt like he was sulking. Like when a child is told to go to bed - they complain and whine, then they slam themselves down onto their bed with a thud.

Though you’d rather keep your mouth shut than tell him he was acting like a kid. It would be a joke, but you had no idea how he’d take it. Again, this was the longest argument conversation you’d held before, so dropping a comment like that probably wouldn’t help lessen the awkwardness.

other works ✩ part 2

[m4iya]

“You okay?”

Following the light creak of my door, a pair of footsteps stopped in the midst of their tracks. His soothing tone forcefully yanked me out of my trance. It was a voice that I’d heard all too often - but not one I wanted to hear now of all times.

My back was sore, my neck pulsating from being cranked over the dimly lit desk that’d consumed my vision for the past few hours. Papers scattered everywhere, to-do lists stuck up on the walls, each written up in an attempt to keep myself on track, to help visualise my progress; but none of it seemed to be working.

A soft tap fell onto one of my open notebooks. My eyes traced the sound, telling me that a tear had fallen before the heat in my cheeks had been able to.

I kept my face down, not wanting him to see me in this state.

But when had that ever worked?

The door creaked once more, and I had hoped that he’d left.

Instead, there he was, standing behind me with his arms wrapped over my chest, his head nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his quiet voice reminding me that everything would be fine.

I worried that he’d hear the way my heart rushed in my chest, attempting to soothe myself; the quick, sharp breaths escaping me being of no help. My vision blurred and I eventually couldn’t take it anymore, losing track of how many drops were streaming down my face, dampening my paper - smudging the ink of all my hard work.

I watched through blurry vision as the words I had written became increasingly incomprehensible, falling victim to the wave of my emotions. Black ink in blotches where they never would have been, sentences merging together and words becoming completely unreadable, truly displaying the ephemeral nature of this all.

After all, that is all it was. Something temporary, something that wasn’t going to last.

I knew that after an exam, these very notes would be torn up, sitting in my trashcan until it would be emptied into a bigger trash can, taken to the dump, never to be seen again.

So could someone remind me why I was worrying so much over this? Over something completely temporary?

Slowly spinning my chair around to face him, he crouched down in front of me, lips upturned warmly. His hand cupped the side of my face, thumb gently wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.

“It’s going to be fine.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, I followed up with a small laugh. One that spoke more than enough - one that carried the assurance that he had given to me.

One that wanted to apologise to him for being so dramatic - for always making him worry about me.

But I knew that wasn’t what he wanted.

In his smile, I saw the layers of trust that had been forged between us over the years; always being there for me when I was at my lowest.

It told me that he didn’t want an apology, and that my own happiness was what he wanted to see.

It told me that all he wanted was for me to look him in the eyes and laugh with a smile that didn’t warrant any second thoughts about its authenticity.

KUROO. TETSURO. Akaashi Keiji, Yamahguchi Tadashi, Iwaizumi Hajime, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, DAICHI SAWAMURA, Yaku Morisuke

Something a little different than usual! Tried out a different writing style lol

other works

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 Anon has chosen to study English, 1 hour a day for 2 weeks with Yamaguchi! He’s seems pretty prepared for this exam! Let’s see how they go..

Yamaguchi, who was still nervous for the upcoming English exam despite scoring relatively high in all the recent quizzes and projects. Despite that, he insists that he's prepared for it, his notes serving as proof.

You, who sits next to him in class, often working together on joint projects, or sharing materials with each other. He was always smiling, ready to help whenever you asked—as though he was waiting for you to do so.

Yamaguchi, who you asked to study with despite being more than thoroughly prepared yourself. You were just solidifying what you already knew—it definitely had nothing to do with him as a person, right?

Yamaguchi, whose pen strokes were smooth and swift. His notebook was organised, neat and well kept together. Whenever you'd mention it, he'd chuckle, light pink dusting his freckles.

You, who always seemed to become carried away in conversation with him. Leant over your open notebooks and textbooks, you'd fiddle with the cap of your pen as he sat, arms folded over the table—the two of you quietly giggling over a mispronunciation he'd made. Despite being careful not to make too much noise, hushed giggles escaped the pair of you every now and then.

Yamaguchi, who made sure not to pressure you too much, taking care to constantly ask you how you were feeling. He'd bring your favourite sweet to each study session, waiting to see the way your expression shifted into a smile when he handed it to you.

Yamaguchi, who often had to remind himself that he was supposed to be studying, his gaze scurrying away whenever he noticed he'd been starting for too long.

You and Him, who'd quiz each other on different English words, with him making a vocabulary list with probable exam questions to choose from. His accent wasn't too thick, words flowing through efficiently as he spoke. He'd even help you refine your own accent, which was already well formed.

Yamaguchi, who would borrow English novels from the library, using them a study tools for the both of you. He'd use the words within them to construct a few practice questions, making sure to give them to you as well.

You, who'd began to feel slightly more confident in your writing and speaking skills ever since you'd both began studying together.

You, who insisted that his notes were some of the only pieces of material that helped you study efficiently. With their organisation, neatness, and wording, you found yourself understanding concepts that previously puzzled you.

Yamaguchi, who in turn, suggested that having you beside him when studying motivated him to try harder than he already was. He doubled down, claiming that you gave him confidence whenever the two of you were together, and that these study sessions you'd both hold helped him immensely.

Yamaguchi, whose cheeks were painted a deep red hue as he realised he'd gotten carried away.

You and Him, who, at this point, had completely forgotten about anything to do with studying, minds occupied with thoughts of each other.

From my exam season event ✩ other works

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 Anon has chosen to study Math, 1 hour a day for 2 weeks with Akaashi! He’s pretty prepared by the looks of it! Let’s see how they go..

Akaashi was aware of the approaching exams, having noted them down in his timetable ever since they were announced at the beginning of the term. You, on the other hand were struggling to remain calm about it, ignoring the stress that slowly piled up, until your homeroom teacher reminded the class that they were only 2 weeks away. Akaashi offered to help you after witnessing you buried inside a pile of books in the school library. However, you didn’t even have the slightest clue where to begin, so when he asked what you struggled with the most, you replied with “Everything.” Giving you his number so you could set up study sessions together, you headed home feeling a little less stressed.

Later that day, you received a message from him. In it, was a handwritten timetable, detailing when, and for how long you’d study a specific topic, and what you could do to enhance your understanding when he wasn’t around to help. He’d find pockets of time to help you, whether in between classes, or after his club activities. You were focused on the content that he was delivering, sure, but you somehow couldn’t help your thoughts from drifting off—ever so slightly losing yourself in his voice, wondering why he decided to dedicate so much time for you, especially when he seemed so busy himself.

The night before the exam, instead of suggesting more last minute studying, he asked you to get as much sleep as you could. Concern laced his tone, and given the minimal hours of sleep you’d been getting in the previous days, you took his advice.

It was the last exam of the day. Sat in the classroom, the paper menacingly faced down with your pencil on the right, eraser on the left. You anxiously awaited for the examiner to allow the class to begin writing. Akaashi sat in the front row of the class, his head slumped slightly, arms crossed over the table—he was prepared, but you had a feeling he still let the stress get to him.

As the timer began, you picked up your pencil and began to write, your hands quivering slightly. All the concepts that he’d helped you revise had remained fresh in your mind as you somehow flew through the questions.

Once the examiner collected the papers, your class erupted in chatter—some sobbed while others cheered. Making your way to the front of the class, you found Akaashi seated on his desk, reorganising his writing materials. He asked you how you’d gone, and with a bright smile, you told him that without him you’d have definitely failed. He chucked, averting his gaze, and replying that he didn’t do much at all—that it was your effort that got you there.

The two of you left the school together, with you offering to take him someplace to destress; a cafe, or an arcade of sorts. He’d done so much for you, so this was only something small. And, well, you wouldn’t just abandon him out of nowhere. Not after spending nearly everyday together with him for two whole weeks.

From my exam season event ✩ other works

[m4iya]

'technostress'

Kenma Kozume

“Hey, open what I just sent you”

A sigh sounded from the other end of the speaker “Is it another IP logger?”

“No!” You giggled, “Just open it.”

Majoring in IT with zero prior experience in it wasn’t the easiest thing. With all the stress that’d been plaguing you lately, it helped to wind down and code something that you’d have fun doing, using a mix of skills you’d picked up in class, as well as online tutorials.

Despite being busy himself, Kenma often tested things out for you, so that way, it’d kind of count as practice. Recently, he’d been complaining that he was always waking up late, missing classes because of it; his alarms weren’t going off at their set times, so he was constantly oversleeping. Of course, you considered that he could’ve been up at night playing video games, sleeping so late that he’d forgotten to actually set his alarms. Though you shook that thought away pretty quickly; after all, most of his nights had been spent with you over call as of recent.

So, although it took you a while to complete, you’d been working on a small alarm app that was designed specifically for him. Something simple that’d remind him of you throughout the day, given he remembered to use it.

Making the commute to university every day on your own, spending hours in classes in an attempt to absorb everything, then heading home only to continue studying—it was overwhelmingly pressuring. Though something that’s made things feel a little lighter, was having someone around that you could talk to, even if it was a guy who you'd met not long ago, majoring in something completely different.

The clicking of his mouse lingered in the background as he read the contents of the app aloud. "'Kenma's Alarm'?" He hummed in thought. "I don't know if other people would use this if app if that isn't their name".

"It isn't for other people." Your voice carried a smile. "It's for you, for helping me."

"...With what?" His voice was small, timid. You could only imagine the expression he'd be wearing.

It was only something little, something you'd made to help. Even though he didn't know it, being there to talk to you, taking the stress off your shoulders without even realising it—to put it plain and simple—did far more for you think he knew.

"Just," You paused, taking a deep breath. "Don't.. randomly leave me, okay?"

"Why would I even think of doing that?" He sighed, speaking in a soft, slightly sarcastic tone—one that told you he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

a/n: been so stressed lately... sigh </3 something short I wrote earlier today. stories for my reqs coming soon!

other works

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 @yiooobb37 has chosen to study Languages, 2 hours a day for 1 week with Hinata! He isn't too sure how he'll do though! Let's see how they go...

Hinata, who has been pretty stressed lately. Ever since the groundbreaking news was dropped that he had to pass all his exams in order to make it to this years training camp, his head has been buried in the books for hours on end.

You, who'd been doing alright for most of your subjects, only feeling the nerves hit as exams inched closer and closer.

Hinata, who stumbled on his words as he struggled, shifting between Japanese and English as you quizzed him on a variety of different vocabulary words.

Hinata, whose thick Japanese accent makes you giggle. His English translations weren't necessarily incorrect, quite the opposite, actually. 'Rice' would become 'lice' , and 'very', would become 'bery'.

Hinata, who would flare up when you teased him, ensuring you that it wasn't a speaking exam, and that his pronunciation wouldn't be marked!

You, who'd attempt to stifle your laughter, and he'd snap back, challenging you to an accent competition.

Hinata, who made sure to organise study sessions with you, whenever he was free. During weekends, during lunch breaks, and even after practice—with the two of you meeting at the local library together, or at each other houses.

Hinata, who'd sometimes fall asleep during these late-night study sessions, breathing softly as the mechanical pencil he held slowly slipped out of his grip. Gently swiping it from his hand, you noticed that the tip of his index finger had dented from how hard he'd been gripping it.

Hinata, who brought his friend, Kageyama, along at one point, joking that you'd 'definitely be able to tutor a numbskull' like him!'. It wasn't long before the boy told him off, remarking that their grades were practically the same.

Hinata, who'd sometimes ring your number in a panic, asking you about a word that he'd never heard before, and how it would be structured in a sentence. You'd answer his question as much as you could, continuing to give him pointers on other things he needed to know.

Hinata, who definitely wasn't a slow learner when it came to grasping a language concept. He knew his vocabulary, vowels, punctuation and sentence structure more than most of the people in your class. He'd been stressing for so long, complaining that he wasn't sure how he'd ever come close to passing this exam, but you'd seen how much he was working, knowing his skill level well.

Hinata, whose score on the last practice test you gave him was 100%. His eyes widened, taking the paper from you with a gasp. Laughing, he shoved the paper in his friend's face, who turned away, wearing a scrunched frown.

Hinata, whose final score on the official exam didn't necessarily align with the practice one despite the countless sleepless nights you'd shared.

You made sure to let him know that what he learnt wouldn't necessarily only be used in one exam throughout his entire life. After all, if he really wanted to play professionally around the world, wouldn't he need to learn a variety languages to communicate with all the different people he'd meet?

Hinata, who never stopped hanging out with you after exam season, inviting you to come watch his team's games sometimes, always reminding you that he wouldn’t forget what you'd done for him.

extras:

Hinata, whose newly tanned face one day appeared on your TV, playing in his debut match for a national team in Brazil. Sticking around for the whole game, you watched as the interviewer asked him how he learnt to speak Portuguese so fluently in such a short amount of time.

Hinata, whose eyes softened at the question, a breathy chuckle leaving him before responding "A close friend of mine from high school gave me the push I needed."

From my exam season event ✩ other works

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !! Exam season! (Haikyuu Event)

Hello everyone! This is a small event that I've had in the works for a while now! The format of these stories will either be a one-shot drabble, or multiple imagines for one character. Tell me your choice alongside your request! (One character only, characters will be crossed off when chosen!)

"Huh? What do you mean it’s already exam season? I haven’t even started studying!"

📚─ "Well, I have to start somewhere! How about a study partner?"

English - Yamaguchi Tadashi

Math - Akaashi Keiji

Science - Kuroo Tetsuro

Languages - Hinata Shoyo

Social studies - Kenma Kozume

📚─ "Only 2 weeks 'till the first exam?! Let's organise a time for each subject.."

‘1 hour a day for 2 weeks’ - He's prepared for the exam!

‘2 hours a day for 1 week’ - He isn't too sure how they'll do..

‘Just read your notes the night before!’ - He's.. Oh no..

example requests:

'1 hour a day for 2 weeks with kuroo as my study partner' or 'ill just read my notes the night before with hinata as my study partner!'

📚─ Written:

Languages w/ Hinata, 2 hours a day for 1 week

Math w/ Akaashi, 1 hour a day for 2 weeks

English w/ Yamaguchi, 1 hour a day for 2 weeks

Science w/ Kuroo, 1 hour a day for 2 weeks

Social Studies W/ Kenma, reading notes the night before

[m4iya]

⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 Order up! Lychee black tea with 50% ice, 50% sugar and lychee jelly for @tokiloki!

An open book Iwaizumi Hajime (comfort, high school, misunderstanding)

The bell signalling the end of the school day had rang almost twenty minutes ago. Where on earth were they? With the rest of the team starting warmups, the coach instructed you—the manager—to search for them. Sure, it was only daily practice; not a formal match or anything, but It was definitely uncharacteristic of them to not show up, so maybe you would cut them a little slack.

You took a few laps through the hallways, glancing into the classrooms and asking people who walked by if they had seen them. A pair of girls from your class giggled as they told you that they had just left the classroom where Oikawa still was, noting that Iwaizumi was also there with him. Something about the way they spoke, brushing hair behind their reddened ears as they giggled to each other while walking off—it irked you a little.

You couldn't exactly waltz in telling the boys off for being late, expecting them to laugh it off. Not that you hadn't joked around with them before, it was just you felt it was a little easier to joke around with Oikawa than it was with Iwaizumi, and seeing that they were both there made things a little awkward for you. You knew it was a little odd, but you struggled to figure out why you had such a hard time holding a conversation with him. Something about his gaze being so intense made you a little nervous, but you knew he was just a little rough around the edges; not as scrutinising as his eyes suggested. On a couple occasions, he'd helped you fill up bottles of water for the team, not allowing you to carry any of them on your own despite them being light, and whenever practice would stretch out later than usual, he'd stay back and help you pack things up.

Few words had been exchanged between the two of you, but something about him felt different from the rest of the guys. Oftentimes, your gaze lingered a little longer than usual on him during practice, and you'd noticed the way his tone becomes a little softer around you as opposed to his teammates.

And so you braced yourself as you stepped towards the classroom, opting to simply slide the door open and tell them that they were late. But before you could make it to the door, faint voices sounded from the other side.

"Something's definitely up." You recognised the voice as Oikawa's. What were they talking about?

"For the last time," Iwaizumi shot back, sounding exasperated. "There's nothing between us."

Oikawa hummed in thought, “But you’re always around her, helping her and stuff,” He teased. “Even Makki and Mattsun told me they’ve caught you staring on a couple occasions during practice. Iwa, you’re an open book when it comes to—”

A hand frustratedly gripped the door, forcefully sliding it open. “I’m sick of you constantly picking on me for this,” He spoke, his elevated tone laced with annoyance, “I told you, I couldn’t care less about—”

Startled, you watched as he threw the door open, his head turned towards Oikawa, whose eyes widened at the sight of you.

"Oh!" He awkwardly spoke in an attempt to smoothen the situation, "We're late, aren't we?"

You nodded, plastering a less than convincing smile on your face; a futile effort to hide the way you felt your stomach drop just moments ago.

"I came to call you two—we should get going." Your voice became smaller as you spoke, unable to meet either of them in the eyes. Walking down the hallway at a faster pace than the two of them, you felt a pair of eyes staring daggers into your back.

You didn't want to know what they were talking about. You continued to ignore the most obvious answer that plagued your thoughts whenever you noticed Iwaizumi glancing at you from the corner of your eye as though he had something to say. Throughout the remainder of practice, you were all over the place, struggling to complete the same tasks that you'd usually do with ease, even finding yourself nearly being slammed in the face with a ball at one point due to being so dazed.

This definitely wasn't a good look for you. For someone who didn't want him to know you'd been affected by what he said, you sure did a terrible job at hiding it.

At last, the coach blew the whistle, signalling for a group meeting to be conducted. Soon after, the team began preparing to leave, taking down the net and packing the equipment away.

You did your part, steering the ball cart into the storage room, wondering how you were going to leave without not saying goodbye to him. Though, as you spent a few more extra minutes than usual 'counting the balls' in the storeroom, you noticed the chatter lessen gradually until a pair of footsteps approached you from behind.

"Got a minute?" Turning around, you saw as Iwaizumi stood at the entrance of the door, eyes staring directly into yours. Your heart dropped.

Struggling to maintain eye contact, you nodded, placing the last ball into the cart before turning to face him. "Everything okay?" Your voice cracked as you spoke, only making the carefree attitude you attempted to display even harder to maintain.

"Look," He ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he did so, "I didn't, um—I didn't mean what I said, you know, earlier." You'd never seen this side of him, given the little conversation you'd both shared. Neither of you had ever taken the initiative to do anything other than exchange a few jokes here and there during practice. But it looked like this long maintained distance would be closed soon enough.

You struggled to muster a reply, the feeling of unease still lingering in your stomach. After all this had happened, you began to wonder what you were to him; it hadn't been something you'd thought much about before today. You'd only met due to being in the same club together, and you didn't expect anything to come from this small bond of sorts that had been fostered between you both. But the desperation in his tone as he struggled to explain what he meant threw you off guard—you weren't used to being spoken to in this way, to have someone show you that they didn't want to lose you.

A lump formed in your throat as you opened your mouth, not knowing what words would come out even if you happened to voice your thoughts.

"I don't hate you, you know that, right?" He mumbled, his gaze leaving yours, as he embarrassedly shifted on his feet.

Once again, you nodded, leaning back on one of the pieces of stored equipment. "Me neither," You replied, blood beginning to rush through your cheeks, "It's.. actually the opposite, I think." Hearing your own voice, your stomach dropped in shock at what you'd just said.

"You think?" He scoffed, a smile lacing his slight laughter, "You're seriously hard to read."

"Well, you're pretty hard to ignore if I'm being honest." You took a few steps towards him, speaking as you did so. "For me, at least."

"Maybe that's on purpose." He teased, "I'm not the only open book here."

You laughed, stepping outside the storage room as he followed beside you. "I guess not."

In the light of the gymnasium, you caught a proper glimpse of his face as you turned to reply; he wasn't looking at you, instead glancing at the floor. A rosy hue was mixed into his tanned skin, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as you approached the exit, together.

from my 100 followers event ✩ other works

[m4iya]

⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 Order up! Peach oolong tea, 0% sugar, 100% ice and lychee jelly for Anon!

Bleak promises Bokuto Kotaro (angst, post high school, misunderstanding)

You dragged your finger across the surface of the photo frame. Since when was it so dusty?

Inside it was a picture that captured a moment practically etched into your memory. You smiled into the camera, holding your diploma of graduation with your closest friends on each side. One of them had his arm slung over your shoulder, his smile so large that you felt like you could still hear it now, all these years later.

And today you had to revisit everything—to go through the same feeling of your heart sinking whenever you thought of him, being overwhelmed by yells and the sound of his name being called by those who surrounded you.

A few days ago, your old high school group chat was revisited by him, who sent a couple invites to a game that he'd be playing in. If not for one of your friends messaging you privately, you wouldn't have decided to go.

"Maybe you can smoothen things out this time around." She reasoned.

You didn't think so. There was practically no reason for you to attend this game of his, inside such a large and bustling arena that would make you feel disorientated. Having to see him run across the court; completely unaware of what you were going through, smiling and laughing beside his new team—that same smile that you used to lose yourself in.

The same smile that always made sure you were happy, that never left your side.

You didn't think he'd realise what was wrong. But maybe a small part of you still held out a little, thinking that with time, he’d change.You promised yourself that you'd wait to see things out until the end—to talk to him if you could make it through the crowds.

it might be said

Taking your seat in the stands, you watched as he and his team made their way into the court; the bright lights, roaring voices of the crowds—it was all too familiar. You had hoped to leave the moments it forced you to recall in the past, so as to not taint it with your negativity.

It used to be something you looked forward to, having attended numerous of their practice sessions, then watching all of that hard work be put into play as they went on to compete on a national level. Despite them not taking first place, it wasn’t anything that you could've imagined yourself even coming close to. All of that perseverance, months of training—despite not taking first place, the thought of quitting never seemed to cross his mind even once.

It was all too much for you. All this confrontation, forcing yourself to be here even though you were aware of how little you'd actually do. Promising yourself to do things that you wouldn't end up fulfilling.

After you confirmed their victory at the end of the match, you stood from your seat, making your way to the exit. Looks like you really were a coward; unable to watch him play like you used to, and leaving as soon as it was over. As soon as you reached the doors of the building, your phone sounded; picking it up, you saw a name on the screen—one that hadn’t shown up there in years.

“Hello?” You held the phone to your ear.

“Hey! You came, right?” The fading ambience of the court lingered in the background. Was he looking for you?

“Yeah, I’m just about to leave now.” You could’ve just walked out of the building, telling him you’d already left; finally putting an end to whatever this was.

But you didn’t.

He told you to stay where you were, that he’d be coming to you.

And so you stood there, waiting. A few minutes passed, and your thoughts wondered off; What did you do to mess up? Maybe if you were more forward with your feelings, more outright, less clingy, less annoying; would things have turned out differently?

Maybe—to put it plain and simple—it was nothing more than him being disinterested in you.

Suddenly, an all too familiar voice forcefully dragged you out of your train of thought. Looking in the direction of the sound, you watched as he walked towards you, bag slung over his shoulder, no longer wearing his uniform.

"You’re leaving?"

"Yeah. I told them I had something on," His lips tugged into a gentle smile. "How've you been?"

"Good." You replied, fiddling with the fabric of your sleeve. You couldn't think of much else to say—so much for promising yourself that you'd change. It's not like you could come outright and ask him "Hey, where have you been? Why did you cut me off? Did you find someone else? Was I not interesting enough?"

And it’s not like he’d ever know what you were thinking. Not when you spoke in such a sweet tone, smiling with as much warmth as you could muster—you weren’t mentally prepared for confrontation. But you knew that masking your emotions wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Who knew the next time you’d be able to see to him? To stand in front of him with all his attention focused on you alone; beaming excitedly, treating you like someone he'd never let go.

It was either you spoke now, or acted like nothing ever happened—continuing to wallow in your thoughts as you struggled to escape the loop of self depreciation you'd been forced into.

But.. maybe it would change things between you two.

"Everything alright?" He questioned.

"Bokuto, I—" You struggled to choke the words out, "I need to tell you about something."

His brows furrowed in confusion, tilting his head slightly. "Whats up?"

The words were on the tip of your tongue, a few simple statements, having been condensed through years of overthinking and worries. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Oh, just a second!"

He turned to the side, answering his phone call. Upon finishing, he informed you that he had to leave due to him being called back by one of his teammates for a group meeting. He promised he'd call you back, insisting that your conversation wasn't over yet. With that, he took off; your eyes lingering on his back until he was no longer in sight.

Once again, another promise that you couldn't see being fulfilled. If he didn't couldn't keep his promise of staying beside you, what would make you think he'd keep it this time around?

You looked down at your feet, too weak to form an expression that could describe what you were feeling right now. It was still the same—he hadn't changed. You really weren't anything much to him at all, just another person from his graduating class. Just another girl that he happened to see after a while.

Just someone that he couldn't spend even a minute of his time on, to listen to what they had to say even if he didn't really care deep down inside.

Having received your answer, you promised yourself that to no longer mull over something that only made you feel worse with time.

But who were you kidding? Sure, he couldn’t fulfil his promise, but neither could you.

You never did change, after all, so what made you think that you could now?

from my 100 followers event ✩ other works

[m4iya]

⋆⭒˚.⋆𝜗𝜚 Order up! Matcha green tea, 100% sugar, 100% ice with black pearls and coconut jelly for @frosted-flakes!

Collab? Kenma Kozume (fluff, post high school, mutual pining + forced proximity)

Your phone had been blowing up with notifications all day since last nights stream. Who knew your viewers would get so heated over a couple jokes? Heck, was it even your viewers? It seemed more like the ones that were freaking out weren’t actually watching for the full context.

Well, that’s what you said every time. It kept them watching, right?

Though, being tagged in rants and comments wasn’t the only thing happening this time. You were receiving an absurd amount of messages from viewers as per usual, but also from other streamers and influencers. The most common words present within all of them being:

“Guess who mentioned you in their stream last night!”

This time, it felt a little different from other controversies you’d been wrapped up in, so you couldn’t help wonder who this mystery person was, and what you had done to earn yourself a mention.

One scroll on your timeline told you just about everything you needed to know. A post sat at the top of your feed; a video captioned “@/mc of all people?’

Clicking on it, a clip of someone’s stream began to play; a QnA of sorts.

“Kodzuken, will we be getting a collab with anyone soon? Can you drop any names?” The streamer read aloud before pausing to think.

“Hmm.. there’s a few things in the works, but I don’t know for sure when they’ll be out.” He replied, absentmindedly flicking through the questions on another monitor.

He paused for a few seconds before continuing to speak. “I’m not the best at reaching out to people, but I’d like to see what kind of content I could make with @/mc. She’s pretty funny.”

Proceeding to continue with other questions, he completely ignored the way the comments blew up at him.

Out of every streamer you knew, he had to be the absolute last person you’d have expected to even have any idea of who you were. You'd been watching his content for a while, having seen him at influencer events and such. Though, you'd never been able to approach him at any of them, often using 'I was talking to my viewers, that's why I couldn't approach him' as an excuse to yourself.

Even though it wasn't exactly your objective as an online personality, you figured that controversies and out of pocket statements would be one way to get his peoples attention. It wasn't like you were exaggerating your personality per se, you were always pretty outspoken, so the only extra steps would be recording or streaming your antics.

Even though it looked like it worked, you had no clue where to go from here. Would you send him an email? Or a message? And what would you even collaborate on? What would happen to his view count if he did make content with you?

You tapped onto his profile on Twitter, scrolling through his recent posts as you wondered what to do. Suddenly, a notification popped up on the top of your screen: A message request.. From him!

Kodzuken hey, this is @/mc, right?

You had a pretty large following, and he had mentioned your name in his stream. Staring at the message for a few seconds, you wondered if he was trying to be funny.

MC u really aren't the best at reaching out to people lol and yeah thats me

Your messages maintained an air of nonchalance, hiding the way your eyes were peeled—waiting for his next response, your heart thumping loud enough for it to reverberate through your ears.

Kodzuken thats a little mean anyways i'm assuming you saw my stream in that case so how does a collab sound?

MC I'm not too busy tbh I should be free next week. u sure u wanna collab with me? ur viewers will probably freak out over it

Kodzuken my channel not theirs 🙄 what do you wanna do for the stream?

MC something simple maybe some type of challenge? are u free to call so we can set it up?

Kodzuken give me a sec ill call you

Your hands shook in place, palms sweaty as you waited for him to call you first.

When your phone eventually rang, you let it sound for a few seconds, clearing your throat. Answering the call, you held the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" He spoke first, his voice being exactly how it sounded on stream.

"Hey!" You internally sobbed over how that might've sounded.

And so the conversation began to flow, the two of you brainstorming ideas and details about the collab. It would be held on his channel, with you editing the stream into a video for your own channel. Before the two of you hung up, he asked for your number so he could send over his address. You wondered why he couldn't just send it over DMs, but your heart was already racing too fast for you to even bother asking.

You got to work immediately, organising your schedule and allocating time to buy the things you needed. He said he had most of the basic things already, but to make things funnier, you suggested a couple ingredients that you'd buy yourself. The idea was to hold a cake baking challenge with odd ingredients. Without telling each other what flavours you were using, you needed to decorate as nicely as you could, and you'd taste each other’s dessert at the end. One of you will guess incorrectly, and the penalty will be to post something on the other's social media account after the stream.

You both agreed not to do anything rash, but also not to plan or rehearse the ending too much. It had a mix of the chaos that was usually in your content, and the viewer interaction that he'd implement in his own. Preparing things behind the scenes, you both kept each other updated until the day arrived, and you nervously made your way to his place.

Standing in front of his home, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door. You heard the shuffling of slippers from the other side, stopping abruptly at the front door.

"Who is it..?" A voice groaned from the other side.

"Um.. me?" You nervously answered.

A faint gasp sounded from the other side before a flurry of steps took off, leaving you wondering what just happened. Could it be that he forgot that you were coming over today?

He returned around a minute later, opening the door immediately. You noted how crinkled his clothes looked, his voice as though he'd just woken up. The skin of his face was dewy—freshly splashed with water, the evidence visible on the hoodie he wore. It wasn't the one he usually had on in his streams.

"Sorry about that." He muttered, attempting a chuckle. His laughter definitely didn't come off as nonchalant, not with his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

Though, you definitely weren’t feeling too confident yourself. Your hands were clammy as you bent over to pick up the bags that you brought with you which contained the things you'd both be using in the stream.

"I'll help." He quickly offered, taking the things in his own hands with a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Butterflies. Your stomach churned in a way that it hadn't done since high school.

Following him inside, you realised how big his home was, surprised that he seemed to live alone. As you walked to his kitchen, he gave you a haphazard tour, which was limited to the rooms you both passed. He steered you away from the direction of his own room, telling you that it was 'just a little messy right now.' Looks like he really was asleep.

Once you reached the kitchen, it surprised you to see his camera and tripod already prepared. He placed the bags down on the counter, walking towards his setup.

"Should I set up my stuff as well?" You asked as you pulled it out of one of the bags, having brought it just in case.

"It's fine, I'll send you the footage." He replied.

With that, you prepared the materials you'd both be using. He provided the bowls, spoons and mixing tools. You handed him an apron and wore your own, giggling at how he struggled to wear it despite it being so simple. You offered to tie it for him and he did the same, even though you were more than able to do so yourself. You lifted your arms as he took the fabric around your waist to tie it, gently weaving one piece over the other.

"Is that too tight?" He asked. "Want me to loosen it?"

"Yeah, just a little."

You could feel your heart beating in your ears as he spoke from behind, helping you with this short, mundane task. Things were all over the place today, and you weren't sure how you'd get yourself under control.

The two of you went through a few more things, and soon began the stream. You greeted the viewers, and introduced yourself to those who didn’t know you.

And so the stream went on, unfolding much more differently than you had initially expected. It seemed that the people who were criticising you had either stuck around to see what would happen, or had simply left.

You cracked jokes with each other while mixing your ingredients, using the mystery flavours that you had poured into separate bottles last night—so tired that you could barely remember what was in them.

At the end, you both decorated the cakes together in an attempt to make them as appealing as they could be. Yours was coated in red frosting, and you used white buttercream in a thin piping tip to write out his name in cursive on the surface of the cake. His was haphazardly covered in pink frosting, purple polka dots shaped from fondant scattered over the surface and the sides. He had decorated the edges with sugar pearls and rainbow sprinkles, running out of time before being able to write your name on it.

Cutting each other a slice, you both took turns tasting it. You could barely contain your laughter as he cut into his—the centre was so moist that the knife he used was coated in batter as he removed it from the cake. You opted to eat a piece of the edges instead.

Exaggerating your reaction, you coughed, walking off camera to grab a drink of water. The ingredient he had used was chilli, and it wasn't settling well with you at all. His laughter echoed through the room as you drank from the cup of water; probably because of the slightly exaggerated reaction that you had rehearsed with him before the stream in the case that he happened to choose something spicy.

As he took a bite of your slice of cake after you had returned to the stream, his face contorted; confusion? He chewed once, then paused, scrunched his eyebrows, and continued chewing.

"Is that—" He coughed. "Is that coffee?"

You could barely contain your laughter at his reaction. Well, he wasn't completely off. It was coffee, alongside a couple different spices such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and.. well, you lost count after the first two.

"Not exactly! Wanna try again?"

He held his nose bridge, 'deep in thought'. You both knew that one of you needed to get it wrong to go through with the penalty. A few obviously wrong guesses later, it was decided that he'd be the loser. After talking to the chat a little, answering some questions and interacting, it was revealed to them that you'd soon upload a video on your channel, which would contain extra content, and that the penalty post would also be up on his account. With that, he concluded the stream, slouching over the table with a sigh as you took a seat on one of the tall stools, picking at the cake he had made.

"At least the frosting tastes good." You laughed, taking a spoon of it.

"Yours wasn't actually too bad," He muttered. "Just.. very flavourful."

The situation suddenly set in; it was now nighttime, and your belongings were scattered everywhere. How were you supposed to just pack up and leave? That same feeling from earlier was now completely overwhelming you as you felt your face warm up. What exactly was going on? Keeping your eyes on the slice of cake, your face began to heat up. In your peripheral, you noticed his head turn.

"You okay?"

“Just a little tired,” You smiled, avoiding his gaze. “I should probably get leaving soon." Reaching behind your back, you fiddled with the knot in an attempt to untie it. The quicker you could pack up, the quicker you'd be out of this mess.

Though, even the apron wouldn’t budge at all no matter how hard you tried to undo it.

"Did you superglue this or something?” You chuckled, exasperated. “It’s so tight!”

"Oh,” His head perked up. “I loosened the first tie, but I double knotted it just in case." He stepped towards you, offering to fix it yet again.

"All done." His hands reached over to the collar, lifting it over your head to which you pulled it down, folding the apron in your lap.

"Guess I'll do yours as well?"

You stood from the chair as he turned his back to face you. This was definitely something he could've done himself. Though as you fiddled with the fabric—in the deafening silence of the room, the way his breath suddenly hitched became overly apparent.

At this point you honestly couldn’t tell whether it was yours or his who’s breathing you were hearing. Your eyes scattered as undoing the fabric of the apron was the last thing you were thinking about right now. It was a little late to be realising this, but he was much taller up close than he seemed online, and given the way the apron wrapped snugly around his body—he was also a little thinner than you imagined. Not to mention the stray hairs at the nape of his neck that had escaped from the bun he’d made.

“..Are you done?”

Shoot. Who knew how long you were standing there with your gaze scattering everywhere? You quickly untied the knot with a single swipe, and he lifted the collar over his head, handing it to you. As you reached out to take it, you noticed how tightly he held it, seemingly not wanting to let go. It did seem a little out character for him to be so forward—having been the one that initially reached out to you first, inviting you over and being completely unlike how you initially perceived him. Not that you had thought he was mean, he just didn’t seem like the type to be so outgoing.

Or maybe it was motivated by something. Maybe the small patches of plush pink painting his cheeks, the way his lips were slightly parted so as to prepare himself to speak, his gaze focused on you for the first time today—maybe things were a little different for him as well. You for one knew yourself, being well aware of what you’d been going through today.

“..Do you have something to say?” You prodded, teasing although your voice was small, shaky, and laced with nerves. You definitely weren’t in any place to be picking on him.

He cleared his throat, gaze leaving yours once more. “..Do you have plans tomorrow?” Your eyes fluttered to his slender hands, their grip loosening as he spoke.

“No,” You replied. “I had nothing planned for this week other than—well, this.” Taking the apron from his hands, you set it on the counter. His hand moved to brush a loose strand of hair out of his face, “Do you live far?”

“A little.” Your car was parked outside, but you weren’t the biggest fan of driving at night, and alone as well? Not happening—not unless it had to. “But I drove here, so i’ll just-”

“You can stay the night.” He interrupted.

“No, I can’t—really-“

“I have space for another person.”

“I don’t even have a change of clothes!”

“I have spares.”

You were surprised that he’d offer something like that, and double down on it as well. Well, his place was huge; but you didn’t i expect him to go around telling random people they can stay over. Especially when he’s only met them once. He was now stacking the dishes in the sink, yawning as he did so.

You couldn’t help tease again, stepping towards him. “So you actually want me to stay over?”

He clicked his tongue, turning on the water. “And if I do?”

That.. wasn’t what you expected to hear. You couldn’t see his face, but the redness glazing the tips of his ears told you that he’d probably been going through the same things as you all day. Well, it was more than just today for you; and you wondered the same for him.

extra:

“Hey, we forgot about the penalty!” You recalled, slipping into one of his spare hoodies.

He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair as he scrolled through his phone, opening the camera. “Sit over there.”

“Here?” You took the seat on a chair in front of his setup, crossing your legs. The two of you giggled as you set up the photo, with him directing you to wear his headphones.

You took the photo of yourself, throwing up a peace sign, and captioned the post ‘get used to this face, ur gonna be seeing it a lot more’.

Watching the replies immediately come rushing in, you laughed together. It definitely wouldn’t be the last time you’d both record something together.

from my 100 followers event ✩ other works